Tuesday, May 01, 2007

I am so practiced at focusing in on the bad things that the good ones - even if they leave me grinning for hours - don't make it off of my fingers and onto my keyboard.

I'm better at complaining.

Like I said: he was at my game on Friday night. I didn't know he was going to be there. I rushed into the facility with just enough time to put on my shin guards and change into my jersey before the game started.

And there was Colin.

When he is standing in front of me, I forget that I have ever felt the slightest irritation or frustration towards him. When he is physically within my reach, I see him with in a soft yellow lighting and a frickin' halo.

I make myself sick.

I am not this vulnerable lovebird. I am too strong and too independent for this.

And, upon sight, I fall apart.

I find ways to redeem myself.

I play tough and I play well.

I make a fool out of one of the men on the other team in a huge way. He stands there with the ball, tries to entice me to make the first move. He plans to slide around me and make me look stupid.

3
comments:

1. Did you TELL Colin that you'd love for him to stop by at a game? Is this why he came by?

2. If not #1, did you make it totally clear to him (VERBALLY) that you thought it was AWESOME that he came by. No points for glowing or hinting or kicking ass on the field on this point, hun. Just, "It made me really happy that you came by my game." or "I thought it was awesome that you came to my game" or whatever.

You can do it.

And, Aly? Just because he stops by to see you and you melt in his presence doesn't make you weak nor does it make any of the things he has done that are sucky suck less. It just means that something he did is good. Praise him and hope that he does more good things.

I'm happy for you. Way to kick ass on the field, too.High Five, sista.xoxoK

Exactly what Kate said (boy, you have good readers!) Going weak in the knees is a good thing, and the fact that you did it Friday night is a sign of how meaningful his action was to you. LET HIM KNOW THAT. In no uncertain terms, he needs to know how nice that was. To intuitively expect someone to just know it was a big deal is unfair.

Besides, maybe all this time of you hanging back and not pressing things with him has made him miss you...

(Sheepishly) Um, no. I didn't tell Colin I would lurve for him to stop by one of my games. And I haven't exactly lavished praise on him for coming, either. Although - seriously - if he couldn't see it then he's damn blind.

Hi. I'm A.

Born, raised, educated in the Midwest, I am such a Midwesterner. So Midwestern, if you will.

I am: a blogger of 8+ years, forever searching for my next athletic challenge, hopelessly overscheduled and always, always eating.

I started So Midwestern right after I graduated from college, hoping to chronicle my transition to adulthood. Graduate school, four half marathons, two new nephews, three apartments, a trip to Africa, a sprinkle of heartbreak, dozens of unfinished knitting projects, four turns as a bridesmaid, 8,913 job applications and two full-time positions later: I’m fairly convinced that the day when I feel like a legitimate, full-fledged grownup will never come. So I’ll just keep on blogging.

I write about a little bit of everything and a lot of nothing. Toss my ramblings with a few pictures, a touch of swearing and an endless appreciation for the beauty that is David Beckham and you have So Midwestern. Welcome.